[PSL] time travel, time travel

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Martin had always known that Lukas would kill him in the end. If not along the way, then surely at the end, once he'd gotten what he wanted out of Martin, whatever that turned out to be. When the Lonely rose up to swallow him, he'd accepted his impending death with ... what?

What did he have left, really? Numbness, mostly. A hallucination of Jon in the Lonely, looking for him, but - but that was impossible, ridiculous. His mind playing cruel tricks. He settled himself down in the frigid surf, knees drawn up close to his chest, unshed tears frozen to his cheeks and lashes.

And then. A door. A door that shouldn't exist, that couldn't exist. That he shouldn't take at all. The Lonely was terrible, yes, but it was quiet, and it was peaceful. Martin was aligned enough with it by now to very nearly enjoy it, in a strange and terrible way. The Spiral would be infinitely worse than this quiet beach.

But ... it was hope, too. In a strange way. Hope enough that Martin found himself turning the door handle and stepping through, leaving the false comfort of the Lonely behind him.

The transition was unpleasant. Long. But Martin couldn't remember it after; he only remembered stumbling out through the door of a supply closet somewhere deep in the Archives, blinking up at the dim bulbs that pretended to be sufficient. What time was it? Had he escaped? Where were Lukas and Elias now?

And where was Jon? ]

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[curriculum_fictae]

[ As Jon stares into the darkness of the room, he ... sees someone. A monster? A ghost? Visiting hours are long over, and it's clearly not a nurse or a doctor. It ... seems to have a casserole dish in hand? Jon's casserole dish, actually, carefully wrapped up in one of his dishcloths, though it's unlikely to be warm any more. He has a couple of Jon's favourite books tucked under one arm as well.

No. Not a monster. Just Algric, watching Jon rest with hollow, worried eyes. Just looking at Jon's bandages is enough to send a fresh jolt of fear and guilt through him. (It brings back the memory of a different hospital room, with a rather different Jon unconscious on the bed.)

He shifts, a little, sensing Jon's gaze despite the dim light. ]

J - Jon?

[eyediot]

[Martin?

No. If it were Martin, he'd be fussier.

He looks toward the sound of the voice and definitely sees someone there. Maybe the painkillers, maybe the exhaustion, maybe just the fact the man is... the Lonely now.]

Algric?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It's true. This version of Martin has that bone-deep exhaustion that Jon has come to expect from him. He seems a little more wavery than usual, but not as bad as he'd gotten when Tim had accused him of being a monster.

Algric stands, carefully placing the dish and the books down on the chair he'd been sitting in. ]

Yeah, it's. It's me. How are you feeling...?

[eyediot]

[While normally, under different circumstances, he'd be relieved for the confirmation. But now he isn't even sure he can trust his own memory.

-aw dragging on the floor. Just a regular day watching that leg drag awkwardly-

Something pinches between his brows and he takes a sharp inhale.]

Like.... Honestly, a bit like I fell under a tanker.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ That gets a weak laugh from Algric. He hovers closer, then, considering whether to reach out for Jon's hand. ]

You, ah. You look it too, I'm afraid.

[eyediot]

I'm sure I do. Between the worms and now this...

[Jon's not a vain man or thinks he's the best catch. Hell, before now he barely cared about his looks. But he's acquiring a few too many scars for his liking.]

...What time is it?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Sorry about your life, Jon. Algric's expression goes rather harrow with worry again; he still doesn't know what's happened. Not really. ]

Ah, around one AM, I think?

[eyediot]

...And I take it no one stopped you coming in.

[Why would they if they can't see him? There's... something akin to relief in his expression at that.]

Thank you. Being here, I mean.

[curriculum_fictae]

Course not. Might have scared one of the night nurses, though. Reckon she thinks she saw a ghost.

[ Another of those small laughs. ]

Just - just like old times, really. I should have realised right away when you didn't come home for dinner.

[eyediot]

Dinner?

[He wracks his brain for a second. Why would that matter, Jon always eats alone, he never-

I'll make dinner.

God. He'd forgotten, in everything. Who told Algric he was here?]

I'm... sorry about that.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Yeah, he can tell from Jon's face and that question (and Tim's call) that he forgot. It ... hurts a little, but. Well, can he blame Jon? Given the man is laid up in a hospital bed now. Algric would be more surprised if he hadn't forgotten something.

It only makes sense that Jon would have forgotten him. ]

Oh, ah. That's all right, I brought it with me. I'll find a microwave later.

[ A bit of false cheer. ]

[eyediot]

[He's going to hold onto that guilt and remember it every time he sees Algric or Martin now. He doesn't.... God, he doesn't want to forget anything, to be okay with forgetting things just because of Algric's association with the Lonely. That doesn't make it all right.

Jon watches him for a few minutes. It almost seems like he's just catching his breath or dozing off but-]

How did you know I was here?

[curriculum_fictae]

[ It looks so much like Jon's drifted off that Algric drifts forward, inching his hand towards Jon's. And - stopping when he realises that Jon's still awake, moving to lean it against Jon's bed instead. ]

Tim. He - he called the landline in your flat.

[ Given Algric doesn't have a functioning mobile and all. ]

[eyediot]

Oh.

[Jon makes a note to give Tim the rest of that Irish whiskey when he's out. He'll likely forget in an hour.]

Always said having a landline was still a good idea these days.

[Half dead laid up in a hospital bed and can still be a smug prick.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Really, Jon. Really? But - fine, it is nice to see a smile on Jon's face, even a smug one. ]

I - I mean, sure, yes, in this instance, but you have to admit this is a pretty rare situation.

[eyediot]

But it is a rare situation that happened.

[LET HIM HAVE THIS, he's had so few wins lately.]

Did he tell you what all happened?

[curriculum_fictae]

Okay, fine. I'm glad you had a landline to contact the future ghost version of your coworker because - because otherwise he'd probably have sat up all night worrying.

[ Which he's still doing, just. Less, maybe. He might even sleep. ]

Not much. He, ah. I think it took all his concentration that he was talking to someone.

[eyediot]

[Okay with that, now he's worried about Tim. No one's really told him anything about Tim's condition or how he's doing or if he's even been discharged or anything.]

I can... I can try to fill in any blanks, if you want.

[curriculum_fictae]

Right. Right.

[ His gaze drifts down to Jon again. God, there's so many bandages... ]

Something about Sasha?

[eyediot]

[It takes a few seconds for something to catch up to him but-] You're not a ghost.

[He scrunches his eyes trying to remember clearly. The whole thing was just... A blur of fear and panic and pain...]

I was... Sasha, er. The... The Not Sasha. Came in to bring me some follow up reports. I asked her... again to tell me what happened. Because her tapes were missing, from the attack. She told me and. Turned to leave.

[Here, his brows knot up, like there is a pain to picture it clearly. His memories of Sasha, the monster, and the reality that he doesn't remember what the real Sasha looked like...]

She stopped at the door. Asked if I could see her. Then... when she turned to look at me, she was... Different. I can't. [Breathe.] I can't explain it because my memory is. I don't know what that thing does, but. When I think back to her during the attack, in the breakroom with us, any other time, she... Looked like she did at that moment. Monstrous.

And then all hell broke loose. I found Tim, we tried to get out.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Ah. He's glad Jon can remind himself, but ... that hurts a little. Algric is pretty sure that if he wandered out into the world, no one would ever see him again. Or remember that he'd been there.

Breathe, Martin. Not important right now. There's certainly far worse things to think about - like that horrific description from Jon. ]

She - she attacked you because you knew. Didn't she. You asked her and she knew and -

[ INTERNAL SCREAMING. ]

How badly did she hurt you?

[eyediot]

I-i suppose. Could she even sense that I knew? I didn't... say or do anything...

[Slow breath. It's fine! He's fine.]

Some kind of chemical burns and slashes to my back, but. Feet split wide open.

[Those big gauze muppet nubbies at the end of the bed attached to his legs.]

[curriculum_fictae]

[ Algric force his gaze down to Jon's feet and ... oh god. He sucks in a terrible, miserable breath. Has Jon ever been hurt that badly outside of the Unknowing? Jude's burn was bad, sure, but this ... this is something else, isn't it?

He puts his hands over his mouth to stifle a horrified noise. ]

Split open? Are they - did they amputate--?

[eyediot]

Oh-- No, it's- As far as I know they'll heal.

Massive stitches. There were... gashes. Heel across the bottoms, she... [He sits his head back heavily into the pillow.] She slashed at us, and I shoved Tim out of the way. She caught the bottoms of my feet, is all.

[curriculum_fictae]

[ God. God. It's even more awful than he'd assumed from the conversation with Tim. Maybe not amputation level horrible, but still--

Algric lowers himself into the uncomfortable chair next to the bed, tears already wobbling in his voice. ]

This - this is all my fault.